


Real or Not Real?

by Emono



Series: R/NR Series [1]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Bullying, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Pre-Relationship, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years ago, Josh and Chris bond after Chris gets moved to the back of the classroom. A year before Hannah and Beth disappear, Chris and Josh share their first kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real or Not Real?

**Author's Note:**

> This is shamelessly selfish. My friend and I play a game called "Real or Not Real", based off some lines in Hunger Games and In short - she has a problem believing some things she sees and hears, and I personally have a...dissociation with feelings. Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm really feeling a feeling or if I'm just going through the actions and projecting what I "should" be feeling. So we started the game to assure each other, to make a more light hearted approach to what could be a long genetic line of mental illness and dissociation. So I'm sorry for the projections I put onto Josh that aren't exactly canon. This is just...therapy, I guess.

His lungs heaved so hard he thought he was going to throw up. Bile burned up his throat and tears streamed down his cheeks as he ran as hard as he possibly could. His glasses were smudged up but he didn’t stop running, couldn’t stop. He could hear their laughter like a pack of hyena nipping at his heels and he knew there was no choice but to keep going. His shoes felt like they were going to tear apart and his feet would follow, his shins threatening to crack with each pavement pommel.

  
  


Chris had started running near the school and he’d eaten up blocks, nearly caught by the gang of older boys who’d tried to corner him near the bike rack. He’d begged them to leave him alone and the second he’d gotten a chance he’d bolted between them to try and get away. They were relentless, ready to take his backpack. His homework, the twenty he had for a week’s lunch money, his shoes, maybe even his glasses - he knew they’d take everything just because he was small and they  _ could _ .

  
  


The neighborhood took a shift around him and for a terrifyingly whimsical moment he thought he’d entered another realm, a faerie world or through the proverbial wardrobe. But it was just an older area of town and picket fences gave way to mossy stone, thick vines and old trees with low hanging branches covering up the three story houses. Old but refurbished, belonging to the wealthier families. His sneakers skidded through the gravel as he tried to turn into a gated alley, skinny legs fumbling like a newborn doe before he threw himself against the iron and wood. His palms stung against the gate and it rattled, palm slipping along the latch so the whole thing would give. He bounded into the alley and frantically looked around through smudged glasses. Searching for an adult, somewhere to hide, and he found it just as he heard the older boys screaming that they were coming for him faster than he’d thought.

  
  


It was the start of a huge yard packed with trees, so dense he couldn’t see inside.

 

  
Chris went at a white painted stone wall with head-first determination and he jumped up as best he could, whining as he almost knocked the air out of himself. He scrambled clumsily over the smooth, lacquered stone and ended up toppling headfirst into thick grass. He wailed as he nearly smashed his face into the earth and broke his glasses but he saved it at the last second. He collapsed in a heap and scraped his shoulder hard on the wall, making it throb. He groaned softly and sat up, wiping at his glasses and blinking around.

  
  


It felt like a different world here. The trees were thick and the painted stone wall dipped and swelled in artfully uneven waves. The leaves were a heavy, dark shade of green and laced over one another to almost block out the outside world. An old gazebo and stone benches, reaching vines, and he was sure he saw a faint mist hanging in the air. The house was towering, intimidating, painted the shade of ghostly flesh with vines crawling up it like veins.

  
  


It seemed haunted. 

  
  


Chris got to his feet and wobbled forward, starting to wander, but stopped short with a yelp when he saw someone standing there. It was a boy his age, and he recognized him right away. It was Josh, the boy he’d been moved next to in class with the purple eraser tips and the nervous foot tapping. He was standing there, quiet and confused, just staring. Chris shuddered and thought about running away again but his feet felt stuck to the grass.

  
  


“What are you doing here?” Josh asked, still frowning.

  
  


Chris sputtered noisily, tripping over his words and making no sense at all. Frustrated tears welled up in his eyes. He could hear the shouts of the older boys and his heart kicked up a painful pace. Josh’s gaze flicked toward the wall that the other had climbed over.

  
  


“I-I didn’t…”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Boys,” he wheezed. “ ‘m hiding.”

  
  


Josh’s lips pursed. “Are they real?”

  
  


He frowned. “Who?”

  
  


“Are you getting chased by real people?” Josh asked deadpan.

  
  


He nodded slowly, unsure. “Yeah.”

  
  


“Are you sure?”

  
  


Chris started to cry again, sniffling loudly and lip quivering uncontrollably. The pack of boys were close, he could hear them barking his name,  threatening to make him eat gravel if he didn’t come out soon. Josh frowned sharply.

  
  


“Oh, they are,” Josh observed almost off-handedly. “They’re going to hurt you,” 

  
  


Chris sobbed and nodded, wiping messily at his face and nearly knocking off his own glasses. Then Josh bolted and his whimpers were more of surprise. The other by was obviously athletic and he climbed up the wall without a hint of strain. Chris stared after him, choking down more little sounds because now he was  _ alone _ . He sat down in the grass against and weakly cleaned his glasses, making them worse from how filthy his fingers were. 

  
  


A smear of scarlet made him realize he’d scraped up his hands pretty bad climbing. 

  
  


He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, butt getting cold and chest tight, ribs shuddering. There were some noises further away, the skitter of gravel, some shouts - but no barks of his name. Something creaked and he shot his head up, staring as a small gate in the wall nearby opened up. He expected one of the older boys but it was Josh. He looked a little filthy, knuckles chalked up and hair mussed, out of breath, but his eyes were almost unearthly bright.

  
  


Chris quieted himself down, sniffling softly and swallowing down more whimpers. They hadn’t talked a lot in class but Josh had seemed funny but kind of strange. Nice enough but quieter than he was in class. The other boy walked up to him and he didn’t flinch but there was an uneasy feeling in his stomach. 

  
  


“Hey.” A hand was held out to him, waved impatiently. “Let’s go inside. You’re bleeding.”

  
  


Chris looked down at his scraped palms and felt a sting on his stomach, and his knee was scraped raw beneath the hem of his shorts. He eyed Josh’s hand and frowned, eyeing the bits of blood under the boy’s nails.

  
  


“Hey,” Josh said again. “They’re not going to hurt you again. If they do, I’ll fuck them up again.”

  
  


“Jeeze,” Chris breathed.

  
  


“So come on.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Chris was led by the hand to the porch and into the house. He reluctantly let himself be tugged inside despite his uncertainty. 

  
  


“Are we allowed to be in here?” he whispered as he was led through a hall and an entry room before getting gently shoved onto a seat in a high-ceilinged kitchen that was all rustic tile and warm wood. 

  
  


“My parents own a lot of the houses in this neighborhood.” Josh dug in the freezer and put some ice on a thick washcloth. He put it on the counter beside him before going over to a cabinet and tugged out a med kit, putting it beside it. He got another washcloth and he ran some cold water over it. “My sisters’ nanny and her parents live here. I’m allowed over whenever. They’re probably asleep right now.”

  
  


Chris stayed still when Josh took him by the chin and started cleaning off his face, wiping away tear tracks and gravel dust. The younger boy watched curiously as some antiseptic was taken out of the kit and splashed on the cloth. His palms stung but they got clean, and his knee too. Chris took off his glasses and sighed a little, watching the other go through the motions. 

  
  


“Hey Josh?”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Why did you ask if those guys were real?”

  
  


Josh looked at him and his breath caught, chest tight for another reason altogether. There was a seriousness etched into his eyes that Chris had only seen in the eyes of his father after coming home late from work. An old somberness that he thought had only existed in adults. 

  
  


“Because sometimes they’re not. And my therapist said it’s important to tell the difference.” 

  
  


“ _ Oh _ .”

  
  


“ You want a Coke?”

  
  
“ Yes please.”

  
  


o0o0o0o0o

  
  


_ 10 Years Later _

  
  


Chris tried to cover his mouth as he yawned and he nearly smeared mayo across his cheek. It was dark in the Washington kitchen, past midnight sometime with only the stars and the few lamposts outside the house to keep him company. He’d woken up sprawled at the bottom of Josh’s bed with a loud hunger that couldn’t be denied. He’d managed to sneak out of the bed without waking him up and past the twins’ rooms with socked feet. 

  
  


He’d pulled every sandwich ingredient out of the fridge and spread them all over the counter. He was planning the most supreme sandwich and he was jamming to the beat of his own music as he created his masterpiece. It was a parents free weekend so he didn’t worry about disturbing anyone, or Mr. Washington coming down in just his open robe again.  

  
  


Chris was just getting into stacking when he heard a piercing scream. It chilled him and his stomach twisted up, knife falling and clattering messily off the counter and onto the floor. He hesitated only for a moment before he ran off, thumping loudly down the hall and hitting the stairs like a clumsy cartoon character. He scrambled up them on his hands and knees, launching himself up as fast as he could. It was Josh, there was no denying it. He’d know that voice anywhere. 

  
  


He got to the bedroom and made sure to lock the door behind him before rushing to the bed. Josh looked possessed - back arched, muscles bulging with a heavy strain, his entire body pulled tight, mouth gaping to show off his teeth to the ceiling. Tears cut tracks down his cheeks and his heart throbbed in sympathy.

  
  


“Josh.” Chris carefully squeezed his shoulder, soft at first so as not to startle him too much. Josh jerked but didn’t pull away, eyes wide and unseeing as he struggled to fight off his nightmares. “I’m here, man. Right here. You’re in your bedroom and it’s about two AM, and whatever just happened was a dream. It wasn’t real. I’m real, Josh.”

  
  


Josh whined in the back of his throat and lurched forward, fingers fisting in the blanket. Chris made him sit back and tried to get him to lay down. “Can you count down from ten for me?”

  
  


Josh just shook his head, uncooperative, still wheezing. 

  
  


“There’s nothing here to hurt you. You’re safe. Everyone’s safe. This is real, this is happening.”

  
  


Josh was rarely this unresponsive and it unnerved him. Chris climbed into the bed with him, hushing the distressed sounds and he carefully pulled him closer. Josh rolled onto him, hands jittery as they touched along his sides, cheek scratching his chest. It took Chris a moment to realize his friend’s noisy breaths were actual mutterings.

  
  


“ Poison. I could see it. Was on their claws, they were  _ in  _ the shadow, actually  _ in it _ …”

 

Chris pet through dark hair and hushed him again much more softly. He laid a hand on his lower back too, grounding him as best he could. “It wasn’t real.  _ This  _ is real.”

  
  


It was an old game between them, crippling anxiety and mental illness wrapped in the satin bow of a child’s game.  _ Real or Not Real.  _ Josh’s mind was a complicated Greek labyrinth of pitfalls and barbed wire, filled with tall shadows and hybrid beasts of nightmares. Neither of them could pinpoint exactly when the game had started but it had become the proverbial yarn to navigate through it. 

  
  


Josh kept whispering against his collarbone, fingers digging meekly along his sides and tapping his ribs. “See it, you can see it. The claws were thin and they can fit between your ribs, they can slide inside.”

  
  


“Josh, can you hear me at all?” Chris asked quietly, testing the waters, patience running thin. Josh kept muttering softly to himself, plastered against him, and it was frustrating. He needed to snap him out of this spiral but he fumbled for how. 

  
  


“Please, Chris, please, please…”

  
  


Chris swallowed thickly, breath catching. He wanted to fix things, he wanted to help somehow. The weight of the situation mounted on top of the pressure cooker of their normal normal tension - long touches and nights spent curled around each other, fingers wandering, heads too close together - from bandaging each other up from schoolyard fights to waking up cuddled together on the couch after teenage playdates of video games and Monster. Glued at the hip, never apart. Not even at their worst. 

  
  


Chris cupped Josh’s cheek and pushed a chaste, dry kiss onto his worried mouth. The kiss was almost sweet at first but then the surprise set in. Chris pulled away and stared into wide, emerald eyes that seemed to have cleared. Josh was fucking cute on a normal day but there was something beautiful about his face right now - soft features, tears glittering in his lashes, and there was disbelief in his gaze. No, not disbelief.  _ Hope _ . 

  
  


“It’s gonna’ be okay, Josh,” Chris promised lowly, hoping not to throw him back into a spiral that would leave them both wide awake. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

 

“O-Okay.”

  
  


The small, soft voice hit Chris right in the stomach and he rubbed his thumb over his cheek.

  
  


“You with me, man?”

  
  


Josh nodded slowly before slumping against him, breathing deeply as he settled himself down. 

  
  


Chris murmured little reassurances and kept rubbing over Josh’s back as he listened to him fall asleep one sigh at a time. Even after he passed out completely, Chris stayed awake in a silent guard against any returning nightmares.  

  
  


_ You couldn’t keep me away even if you tried.  _

  
  
  


 


End file.
